


Day Four: Snowflake

by dalektabledesires



Series: Drabble A Day [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Can be read as stand alone, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-09 23:57:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dalektabledesires/pseuds/dalektabledesires
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A very wonderful follower of ours on Tumblr requested a Mormor fic, so here you go! This is my first Mormor, and I really don't know a lot about this pairing, so I apologize if the characterization is off (though I figure since Sebastian isn't actually in BBC canon yet I am probably safe). Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Feedback would be great and useful for future Mormor stories. As always, I don't own this characters nor do I make money from this. It's just for fun.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Day Four: Snowflake

**Author's Note:**

> A very wonderful follower of ours on Tumblr requested a Mormor fic, so here you go! This is my first Mormor, and I really don't know a lot about this pairing, so I apologize if the characterization is off (though I figure since Sebastian isn't actually in BBC canon yet I am probably safe). Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Feedback would be great and useful for future Mormor stories. As always, I don't own this characters nor do I make money from this. It's just for fun.

"Another."

"You sure, mate? It's your fourth." The look Sebastian Moran threw the bartender could have melted steel. "Another it is."

The Jack & Coke slid across the bar smoothly, the amber liquid sloshing but not spilling, oh-so-carefully cradled in the square glass. Sebastian stared at it; he stared at it and he hated it almost more than anything he had ever hated in his life. What right did it have to be so intact, so singularly perfect in its solidarity? He took a vicious hit, drowning most of the drink, and let the glass fall from his hand. It shattered on impact, pieces flying outward as if from an explosion. 

"Oi!" the bartender cried. "None of that, mate. I've had enough. Pay up and get your arse out of my bar." 

Sebastian eyed him, toying with the gun in his pocket. It would be terribly simple to kill the man before he could blink. Hell, he could silence every single person in the bar before the first shot finished echoing in the dim room, bullets aimed straight for vulnerable pieces of flesh and fragile shells of bone. And why shouldn't he? Shouldn't something other than his cursed emotions be shattered? 

His hand stroked the butt of the gun but in the end it wasn't worth it, wasn't worth the mess, one he would have to clean alone. There was no one there now who could share in this evil deed. He was alone. 

Sebastian pulled back from the bar and swung wildly around. He stumbled out the door into the frigid London air, belatedly realizing he had forgotten a thicker coat. For days the sky had been threatening the city with the promise of snow, and for days the city had waited with bated breath through icy rain and hail, but snow had never come. 

Not that that mattered now; it was still cold as fuck as Sebastian made his way towards his current lodgings-a sparse single room flat that consisted of a cot, a toilet, and a space heater for both warmth and coffee. Home sweet home if there ever was one.  
Sebastian was just stepping off the tube when he felt it, a kiss, a very cold kiss, softly upon his cheek. He lifted his head: it was snowing. Beautiful, great fat snowflakes that fell like dancers, twisting through the night sky, turning and swaying before landing softly. It was the sort of image only seen in fairy tales. 

"And me without my old fashioned villain," Sebastian muttered in response to his thoughts. He turned and continued on home.  
He was nearly at the door of his flat before he noted the figure standing there, obscured by shadows, and that it took him so long made him think two things. One, he was more pissed than he realized to have so poorly misjudged his surroundings and missed seeing the figure, and two, only one person had ever been able to slip past his senses. Sebastian stopped short. It couldn't be...

The figured stepped forward, a small smile blossoming over his face. "Ello, Seb."

And then Sebastian had to remember how to breathe, because the world was suddenly spinning and tilting, and he was not prepared for the wave of emotion rising up to consume him, and all he could think as the infuriatingly gorgeous madman walked towards him was that he hoped this was real and not an alcohol-induced dream or hallucination. But as Jim's hands grabbed his arms and shoved him back against the wall, as Jim pushed in and crowded his space, his sharp scent toying in Sebastian's nose, so strong, so familiar, something Sebastian hadn't smelled since _the fall_ , as his head was forced back and lips met his with a force bruising in its severity, and a tongue demanded attention, Sebastian forgot all about worries and wishes. Instead, he kissed back fiercely, eagerly, and fisted his hands in oily black hair. He kissed as if it were the last kiss he would ever have, and as he did, as complete and utter happiness washed over him, he felt them, the perfect fat snowflakes, dropping slowly onto them, their cold symmetry melting in the heat of their bodies, a silent reminder that this was real, Jim was alive, and Sebastian had his chance to do any and everything he wanted, starting with being snogged senseless in an alleyway.


End file.
